Born to Die - Drew Starkey

13. Juliette*

A/N: When you see * in the chapter, that means smut.

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Drew had told me to meet him at his trailer at 8 o'clock. I was a little disappointed that he didn't want to pick me up and walk me to the restaurant or car. But I didn't say anything. I wanted him to put in effort without me having to ask.

I applied makeup, slipped on my sexy pink dress. Uncomfortable but sexy. It showed off just enough cleavage to intrigue. Corey had loved it. Whenever I wore it, we'd end up in my apartment with the dress on the floor.

I figured looking good couldn't hurt if I was angling for something to happen with Drew. "Something" that had to do with the condom I slipped in my purse.

Drew didn't tell me where we were going. I was scared I overdressed, but even if I was, that would mean I'd steal the show, right?

Stepping out into the dirt outside my trailer, I realized maybe heels were a mistake. They were digging into the ground. I walked on my toes a small distance and knocked carefully.

"Come in!" He yelled.

With some confusion, I swung open the door and stepped up the couple stairs, and my mouth fell open.

His table had a white tablecloth, two wine glasses, dinner plates, and a small candle in the middle.

Drew was in the mini kitchen cooking.

"You're cooking?" I clarified.

"Yeah." He hesitated when he looked up at me. His gaze swept from my done up hair and makeup before lingering on my cleavage. His scrutiny seared into my skin, hot and daring. "Is that alright?"

I remained still as he assessed me. I'd been assessed like this before, in this dress, too. Instead of imagining how easily it would be to remove the dress, or picturing what it would look like on the floor, he was just looking at me. Memorizing me. I began to sweat.

It's been years since I'd actually had a home cooked meal. I think since before my mom died. In college I always ate from the dining hall, and after that I scraped by on a diet of pb and js and toast. Even recently, after having made enough money, I mostly did takeout or ate with other cast mates to avoid having to learn to cook.

But I certainly wouldn't have expected him to put this much effort in. I walked beside him and looked down at the meal.

Stir fry. Audrey's favorite dinner.

Was he making this because I mentioned I'd never had it?

"It's perfect." I whispered.

I hadn't even taken the time to mention what Drew was wearing.

All six feet, two inches of him, clad in black pants, and black button down that was open towards the top.

"You look really good." I said quietly and met his eyes that hadn't stopped looking over me.

"Says you."

He stepped around me, lifting the hot pan up and over my head so he could bring it to our plates and portion it out.

I watched him carefully put the tray in the sink and listened to it sizzle as it cooled. He cleaned and dried his hands then dug through a drawer. I felt so awkward just standing there and doing nothing, but I was so mesmerized by how effortlessly he knew his way around.

He found the wine opener and carefully opened the bottle. He nodded his head towards the table, so I took his instruction and sat down at it.

I stared down at the food as he poured me wine. He was waiting for a reaction.